Breaking Walls
by Blank Pages Unwritten
Summary: Simon just broke up with Clary because of feelings she wouldn't let him see. Now her best friend is trying to help her get back on her feet at a club. There she meets a guy with similar problems.  Will Clary let Jace Wayland help her? M for Adult themes..
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you guys enjoy this. It's my first published story on here, so feel free to critique and such. **

**Disclaimer-I dont own the Mortal Instruments series or the characters.**

The bell rang two minutes after I had finally managed to get some sleep in this hell of a science class. And it really pissed me off. I didn't fall asleep until late last night because I was doing what? Science homework. The tyranny of science teachers just never stopped.

Sighing, I stood and gathered my stuff. My day had been horrible, and, to top it all off, I was heading to Calculus 101. It wasn't as particularly boring as science was, but, trust me, it was no good time either. I was literally only a step from class when my best friend, Kaelie, rounded the corner at the same time.

"Hey, Clary!" She giggled happily. I gave her one look and her smile vanished, "Bad day?"

"Oh, no. I consider my boyfriend breaking up with me, having a total frizz ball for hair, someone stepping on my lunch, and falling asleep in science class a great day." I said sarcastically.

"What happened with him?" She asked, completely ignoring my bitchiness toward her. Whether it was for a good bit of gossip, or genuine concern, I had no idea, but she was listening, so I was going to tell her, "I thought you and Simon… you know…"

"Slept together? Yeah, we did. And it was one of the worst mistakes of my life – "

"Really?" A deep voice interrupted me. I looked at Kaelie nervously, who's eyes were wide with shock. Right then, I knew who it was before I even turned around. Simon. "Because I was thinking all day that it had been a mistake to let you go," He said, some flashes of hurt flickering in his dark eyes, "But I guess it wasn't." I met his gaze coolly, even though I was always scared to look someone in the eyes, I wasn't going to be intimidated. Especially by Simon.

"If letting me go was such a big mistake, you wouldn't have done it in the first place." I said quietly, my voice coming out not as forcefully as I would have liked. Simon glared at me menacingly.

"All right, kids," My calculus teacher said, "Let's get to class." Simon gave me one look up and down, then shook his head regretfully.

"You were a waist of time. Just like everyone told me. I just wished I would have listened." Then he turned and walked away. I kept my face calm when he was there, but when he could no longer see me, my mouth dropped to the floor.

"Clary…" Kaelie said quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, hanging my head in defeat.

"Come on, Ms. Fray, get inside." My teacher said, ushering me into the room.

I shut my mouth and walked numbly through the door. When I went to take my usual seat in the back corner of the room, some guy was sitting there, hunched over. I cleared my throat as I approached the desk. He didn't look up. I did it again, louder this time, while flicking my hair over my shoulder. Nothing. Then I began to tap my foot on the floor rapidly. Once again, he didn't even acknowledge my existence. It annoyed me to no end.

His golden curls on his head began to move slightly, as if he was bobbing his head up and down. I furrowed my eyebrows. What was he doing? He let out a small noise, like a humming sound. Music? He was listening to music? I tapped his head lightly. He looked up, smiling brightly. My eyes shot down to my feet. He was gorgeous. Not cute. Not hot. Gorgeous. His teeth were perfect – straight, white. His jaw line was strong. His eyes were a bright, curious gold. They were dazzling. _He_ was dazzling.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice smooth and deep, like a river.

"Yes, you're kind of in my seat… Would you mind moving?" I tried not to stutter. I was actually quite proud of myself for keeping my voice steady.

"Move? Nah, I like this chair. Sorry." He winked, then continued doing whatever he was doing before.

I tried tapping him again, but, this time, he didn't even look up at me. I sighed, trying to think of another way to get this boy's attention. My eyes then locked onto the wire attached to his headphones and IPod. I grabbed it, then gave it one hard yank, ripping it from his ears. His head snapped up, staring me down with cold, hard eyes. Oh yeah, now I pissed him off.

"What the fuck, ginge?" He shouted. I winced at his stab of harsh humor. I was always a little sensitive about my red hair, but I shrugged it off and smirked at him.

"I asked you nicely." I smiled sweetly.

"Ms. Fray, please take your seat," My teacher said. I took in a deep breath.

"Well, I would, if _someone_ wasn't already sitting in it." I spat, narrowing my eyes at the guy. One of his eyebrows shot up, amusement playing across his perfect face as he smirked at me.

"Then find another seat," Mr. Fontenot said. The blond guy raised his hand and wiggled his fingers at me while mouthing the word 'bye'. I gritted my teeth together, but turned and sat in the seat in behind him.

I decided to ignore him, which was pretty hard seeing as how he kept stretching and flexing his muscles. Then he took off his black, leather jacket and tightened the muscles in his arms. I could see the muscles clench in his back. It was beyond distracting. Personally, I thought he was doing it on purpose. Especially since he kept tossing his hair, the curls, those golden, blond curls, kept swishing back and forth. _Damn it, Clary. Focus._ I thought to myself.

I turned my attention back to the board, but then something hit me in the face. I yelped in surprise. Everyone paused in the room, their eyes turning to me. Mr. Fontenot looked at me, scolding.

"Do we have a problem, Ms. Fray?" He asked expectantly.

"No, uh, no sir." I stuttered, my hand gripping the piece of paper the blond guy had pegged me in the face with. I picked it up when Mr. Fontenot continued on his boring rampage of some kind of math problem… I wasn't paying attention. When I unfolded the note, I heard the blond guy's quiet laughter. It read:

_Why don't you just stop staring already?_

I sucked in a sharp breath, and I'm pretty sure that my face turned bright red too. I looked up to find him smiling at me, well, more like a cocky grin. Then I ripped the note up in half, and then again after that. I crumpled it into a ball and threw it in the trashcan next to us.

"For your information, I do believe that I was staring at the bored, not you." I said quietly, more trying to convince myself than him.

"And for _your_ information, I do believe that you threw that in the wrong trashcan," He pointed to the other corner, "Recycling is over there."

"You two, the board is up here, not over there," Mr. Fontenot said, then paused, seeming as if he remembered something, "Oh, Mr. Wayland! Class, I'm sorry, I forgot about our new student. Mr. Wayland, please come up here and introduce yourself to us."

He stood and walked to the front of the classroom, attracting every girl's attention in that room, even some of the guys. There were plenty of catcalls and other unnecessary attention. And he enjoyed every minute of it.

I officially hated his freaking guts.

o . 0 . ^ . 0 . o

I opened the door to my mother's apartment and closed it behind me, sighing heavily as I dropped my stuff on the floor by my feet.

"Mom, I'm home," I said loudly as I wandered into the kitchen.

"How'd the day go?" I heard her call from her bedroom.

"Fine," I lied quickly. I never told my mom anything. She never even knew when I switched boyfriends. And thinking that, Simon popped right up in my head. His laugh… His smile… Damn it, Clary! You fucked up. You fucked up again.

"Well that's good. Hey, what do you think about this outfit?" She asked, rounding the corner as I popped a couple pretzels in my mouth.

But as I stared at Jocelyn's clothing choice, I almost choked on them. Now, mind you, my mom is forty-six, and she had the nerve to wear hooker clothes? She had on a skintight leopard dress that was shorter than something _I _would wear – which is not much, being Kaelie always complains about me wearing clothes that make me look like a nun. The heels my mother had on were definitely red, four-inch high Prada pumps. Where did she get the money to buy those? Did she not remember our little financial crisis?

"Too much?" She asked uncertainly.

"Uh, y–" I started to say yes when she looked at me nervously, her face flushed bright pink, "No," I squeaked instead.

"So, you think it's okay?" She twirled in a circle.

"Um, well… What – what are you going to go _do_, Mom?" I stuttered, trying not to laugh.

"I got a new job at a bar," She smiled proudly.

"Oh, oh, yep. That makes sense." I laughed, shaking my head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, putting her hands on her narrow hips.

"Well, don't be offended, but you look like a street walker." I plopped down on a chair at the kitchen table.

"Aren't you sweet," She rolled her eyes, then crossed the room over to me. She played with my hair gently, "You really should put your hair down. It's just so pretty." She sighed.

"No thanks. It only gets in my way." I laughed.

"Well, we could play with it a little –" She started to say, but I cut her off.

"Bye, Mom." I said, trying to tell her to leave the subject alone without literally shoving her out of the door, which I did do once.

"I have to go now anyway or I'm going to be late on my first day." She chuckled, then kissed my forehead lightly, "I won't be home until late tonight, so order a pizza or something, but stay here. I don't want to be worrying about you all night."

"Kay, Mom." I turned back to my bag of pretzels as she walked out of the door.

Where did she think I was going to go? I wasn't a partying girl. My wildest night consisted of me going over to Simon's house and playing video games with a couple of beers to drink. That just shows how much she trusted me. I still had to love her though. I was all she had. Valentine, her now ex-husband and my father, had left her about six years ago, on my eleventh birthday. She spent weeks in her bedroom, crying her eyes out. Luke, her brother, and I spent forever trying to help her pick up the pieces.

It was then she had decided to become an artist. She painted everything that she had built up inside of her. At first, her paintings were kind of dark and scary, but it was the only way she began to finally let people back into her life. She had built up this wall and let no one in it, until a couple of months ago when Luke finally broke through to her. I guess that was why I built up my walls to her, to everyone. I had been shut out so many times, that I just decided everyone else didn't need to see what I really felt.

That was part of the reason Simon broke up with me. He was tired of not knowing what was really going on. When I was around him, I always had a smile on my face, no matter what was happening, so he would know. I didn't want him to know. The last thing I wanted for him was to have a problematic girlfriend who cried about her horrible life every chance she got. That screwed me over. It turns out, that's what he wanted. He was the guy who required that feeling of being able to comfort a damsel in distress, and that just wasn't me. I guess I should have expected it, but even if I had, there was no way to prepare for it. There never is.

Then there was a shrill ringing sound coming from my room. I rolled my eyes, then stood, leaving my bag of pretzels at the table, going to search for my phone.

Once I was in my room, I couldn't find it, though. My eyes scanned the whole area, but turned up with nothing. So I started throwing stuff everywhere. I tossed open my closet door and pulled stuff out, strewing it all over the floor. Yet, I turned up with nothing. I turned to my bed, ripping the sheets and blankets off frantically. I spun on my heel, when that turned up unsuccessful, still searching for the high-pitched trill hidden somewhere in my room. As I tried to take a step toward a pile of dirty clothes on the floor, I tripped over something hard sticking up, letting a string of obscenities fly out of my mouth as I banged my head on the floor. I was just _so_ graceful.

Lying on the floor, a headache threatening to come, while my phone still rang. I groaned, sitting up, when I felt a buzzing in my hand. Looking down, I couldn't help but roll my eyes; my phone was right next to me.

As I looked at the caller ID, part of me hoped it was Simon calling to apologize and take me back. But the other part of me knew it wasn't going to happen. I had been the one that screwed up, not him. Why the hell would he want me back? Oh, right. He didn't. It was Kaelie who was calling, not Simon. I mentally punched myself for thinking of him again as I lifted my phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I said kind of breathlessly.

"Hey, girl," She paused, "It sounds like you just ran a marathon." She laughed.

"Well, sort of." I grimaced, rubbing the back of my head gingerly.

"Uh huh, sure," I could picture her rolling her eyes like she did so often, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Well, being I don't have a boyfriend anymore, nothing," I said, "I still can't believe we broke up." I added ruefully.

"I never would have expected it. No one would have. You guys were, like, the perfect couple," She sighed, "And, plus, you two, like… did it, like, a week ago."

"Yeah, you know, Kaelie, I'd really prefer if you wouldn't bring that up again. Kay, thanks." I snapped.

"Oh, girl. You need to get out." She laughed.

"And go where?" I stood up from the floor and plopped down on the edge of my bed.

"Let's go clubbing!" She said excitedly.

"I don't have any clothes to wear for it. I dress like a nun, remember?" I smirked. I honestly was not in the mood.

"Honey, we're going to party. You need to bounce back from this. So don't try to weasel your way out of this," She paused, "Plus, I know you have got to have _some_ kind of skanky outfit in that closet of yours. Just find something tight and black." She laughed, then the phone clicked and she hung up before I could protest.

I sighed, sitting up on my bed. I knew Kaelie was only trying to cheer me up. She was great at it, but for some reason, it just wasn't working today. I considered blowing her off, my mom had told me to stay home tonight. Besides, all I wanted right now was to curl up on the couch with a gigantic bowl of cookie dough ice cream and watch an F rated horror movie. But what kind of friend would I be if I did that? Not a great one. And, plus, every daughter needed to be a little wild every now and then, despite the consequences.

I ran a hand through my tangled, red hair, and, despite my better thoughts, I decided on being a bad girl tonight. I walked to my closet, pulling out a seriously dangerous dress that would do some major damage. If Simon didn't want me back, fine. But I was not going to spend my time regretting anything, especially Simon. I smile to myself, laughing quietly. If anything was for certain, it would be that I was going to party and get drunk as hell, maybe even laid.

Then Simon would be the one regretting this.

Not me.


	2. Chapter 2

**I want to say thank you to all of my hits and followers I have gotten for my first chapter before I say anything else! I was so happy that you guys liked it. And i would also like to send a personal shout out to 4everclacexoxo for reviewing chapter one! **

**This chapter is shorter than the first, but it is very important to the story. And don't worry guys, Jace is coming!**

**Jace: Well I'm not coming quick enough.**

**Me: Chill out, Mister Impatient. I'm getting there. I have to set the stage for you first!**

**Jace: Well, I suppose that is crucial.**

**Me: *rolls eyes***

**So anyway, thank you everyone for your support! Hope you enjoy it! I will be getting chapter three up as soon as possible.**

**Disclaimer: I dont own Mortal Instruments or the characters. It's all Cassandra Clare's**

**Kat ;)**

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><p>An hour later, I was ready to go. I had my hair straightened down my back, flowing in soft, red waves. I had on my black, four-inch heels and a tight, strappy, black dress. I was looking great, if I didn't say so myself.<p>

I was admiring my reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that to see different angles, when I heard a knock on the door. Running a hand through my hair, I sauntered over to the front door, expecting to see Kaelie. It was about time she got here. Goodness, how much time did she need to get ready? But, as I stared out of the little peephole in my door, my breath caught in my throat.

His dark hair was a tangled mess on his head; his eyes looked worried, nervous. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked back and forth, from the balls of his feet to his heels. I saw him suck in a sharp breath before I spun around, pinning my back against the door, spreading my arms across its width.

"What?" I whispered to myself in confusion, turning to creep on him again.

"Clary?" He called through the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I know you're home." I took in a deep breath as I stood back on my flat foot – I had been on my tippy toes to see out of the little hole, even though I had on heels… yeah, I was that short. I let out my breath slowly through my nose, and smoothed out my dress. Putting on a tough face, I swung open the door to stare up at the face of my ex. Simon.

"What?" I demanded crossing my arms, but my head I was thinking, _Holy shit, what is he doing here?_

"Uh… Um…" He stuttered, his eyes wide as he stared at me, practically drooling. I secretly took small satisfaction in seeing him so dumbfounded, "You look… Wow."

"Did you have something to say, or did you just want to gawk at me all day?" I smirked, leaning against the doorframe. _He thinks I look good!_

"I wanted to apologize," He said quietly as he looked down at his feet. I bit my bottom lip nervously, "I miss you." He added.

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet," I said my eyebrows shooting up. _Well, that was fast._

"I know, but I want you back, Clary," He shook his head.

"Simon–" I started. _Oh, no. Not what I wanted…_

"No, let me… Let me say something," He sighed, "I've been thinking about what you told me. It was a mistake to let you go. I wish I hadn't in the first place because I wouldn't be in this mess. Clary, I want you back. I want you back more than anything I've ever wanted. I miss you. And you're the first person I ever really loved. I still do. I love you, Clary. Please… Just, come back to me."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, my eyebrows furrowed together. This was what I wanted. I had thought about him coming to me and begging to have me back. I dreamed about throwing myself into his arms and never letting go. I wanted him to say these things to me, to mean it. Him actually coming to me like this was something I never thought would happen in my wildest dreams. Yet, now that it was, I couldn't help but wander, was this what I really wanted? Or did I just want someone to want _me_? Did I ever love him? Or was I just psyching myself out because I felt like my own mother didn't love me? The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I wasn't in love with Simon. I was in love with the idea of being in love.

And Simon wasn't in love with me either.

Hopefully.

"Now would be a good time to say something," He said after sometime of silence with me staring at him blankly, his expression desperate.

Silence.

"Clary?" He asked uncertainly. I took in a deep breath.

"Simon…" I said slowly, "You don't love me." I shook my head, not meeting his confused gaze.

"Huh?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You don't love me," I repeated.

"What do you mean? Of course I–" He started.

"No," I said quietly, interrupting him, "No. I was just the first girl who jumped in the back of your truck." I breathed, looking up at him. When I met his eyes, all I saw was hurt. His mouth was slightly open; his hands were trembling, whether from anger or sadness, I had no idea.

"Wow," He said shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief, "Here I am, spilling my heart out to you, telling you how much I love you… and… you don't even care."

"It's not that I don't care," I said quickly.

"Then what is it?" He demanded. The sudden sharpness of his voice made me flinch and shrink back away from him.

"I don't want to hurt you–" I tried to say when he held up his hand, telling me to stop.

"Save it, Clary. Save it for someone who cares," He said, turning around. Anger welled up inside of me.

"If you don't care about me, then why did you come? If you don't care about me, then why do you supposedly love me? Tell me that much." I said, aggravated. He froze in his tracks, his whole back going rigid.

"Who _are_ you? Because honestly I have no idea," He said as he turned around to face me, "But you're right. You aren't the girl I fell in love with. I have no idea who she even is any more," He whispered, glaring at me disapprovingly. I felt the color drain from my face completely, "Bye." He said as he turned back around and began to walk away.

"Simon!" I called, but he didn't answer me, he kept walking, ignoring me completely, "Shit." I cursed under my breath, walking back inside of my apartment.

The only thing I felt inside of me was anger. I was angry with myself for building walls no one could break down, no matter how hard they tried. I was angry with Jocelyn for making me like that. I was angry with Simon for leaving me, even though I was the one who told him to leave when he tried to take me back. I was angry with Kaelie for making me go to a club tonight when I didn't want to. Hell, I was angry at that guy who took my seat in calculus class earlier.

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I screamed at the top of my lungs, as loud as I could make myself go. Looking over to my right, my eyes locked onto my mother's prized Russian vase sitting on her mahogany coffee table. I reached over, my fingers gripping it and picking it up. Then I flung it at the wall, making glass shatter everywhere with a loud bang. I hated my life. I hated myself. I hated everything that was going on.

Then my goddamn phone rang.

I considered ignoring it, for fear of screaming at whoever it was on the other end, but then as I stared at the shattered glass all over the wood floors, I decided I needed to take out my anger on something other than my mother's expensive Russian artifacts.

"Hello?" I answered it without checking the caller ID, completely surprised with the control in my voice.

"Hey, chica! Ready to party?" Kaelie's voice sang through the speaker. I took in a deep breath, preparing myself to tell her no. After what happened with Simon, I was no longer in a partying mood. So what really came out of my mouth surprised me.

"Hell yes." I said, instead of denying her.

"All right! That's the spirit. I'm parked outside, babe." She giggled.

"Be right there," I said, rolling my eyes, then clicked my phone shut.

Okay. Checklist.

Make Simon regret leaving me. Done. Make Simon want me back. Done. Break his heart – which wasn't on the last at first, but was added when I decided he pissed me off for the last time. Done. Party all my worries away. Mission is ago.

I was about to get rid of all my worries right now. I was a junior in high school. I had no need for a boyfriend right now. None whatsoever. So why the hell was I so concerned about this? Well, you know what? I was tired of trying to please people who didn't matter to me. I was tired of being stuck to one person. Being a teenager meant that you were free. It was your time to make mistakes.

I grabbed my wallet, my phone in my other hand, and walked out of the door. My mom wanted me to stay home tonight? Ha! I was going to party. As a single girl. And, as I headed out the door, I decided I just didn't give a shit anymore.

"Whoa, girl!" Kaelie's voice called out from her car when her head poked out of the open window as I stepped outside.

"Skanky enough?" I asked twirling in a little circle.

"Yeah!" She squealed happily, "You look hot."

"Thanks," I said, climbing into the passenger seat, "I don't look like a nun?"

"You are completely de-nunified." She laughed.

"Good." I buckled my seat belt. She suddenly threw the car into drive and slammed on the gas pedal.

"Shit," I cursed as I braced myself against the dashboard, "Easy, Kaelie." I warned her.

"Partay!" She laughed, and pressed on the gas pedal harder.

I was going to die before I even got to this club. _Great_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! It's Kat, and I wanted to say thanks again for all of the new hits! Thank you also for the reviews on chapter two! **

**Just a little heads up, Jace comes into this chapter :) **

**Keep all the feedback coming! It really motivates me!**

**Kat, over and out :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments characters they belong to Cassandra Clare**

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><p>Some how I actually did make it all the way to the club before Kaelie managed to kill us both. As she pulled up into a free parking space, I stared out of the window. In front of the club's door, stood a huge man in a black suit, checking everyone over before they were allowed inside. Above him on the brick wall, was a gigantic, blinking sign. Written in neon letters across it was the name of the club, Pandemonium. This was the biggest, baddest club in the whole city. Why the <em>hell<em> would Kaelie bring me here, of all places!

"Kaelie," I said quietly, "This is Pandemonium…"

"Yeah, so?" She laughed, shifting the car in park.

"I can't go in there, and neither can you. You have to be twenty-one to enter." I said, did she not know this? I knew this, how did she not know this?

"That's why I got Jonathan Morgenstern to make us fake ID's." She sang, handing me a small, white card.

"You got that _slime ball _to make these for you?" I scoffed, taking the card from her hand.

"Yep," She giggled.

"It was probably expensive, knowing him." I said, sliding the card down into my wallet.

"Actually, it wasn't _that_ expensive…" She answered slowly.

"Well, what did he make you pay?" I asked, chuckling a little bit. Jonathan Morgenstern was known around school for ripping people off. He made them pay huge sums of money for stupid stuff. Such as fake ID's.

"He didn't exactly make me pay… money." She whispered, her face blushing a bright red.

"Then, what–" I paused, realizing what she had meant, "Kaelie!" I shouted at her.

"What?" She said quietly, not meeting my disapproving gaze.

"You had sex with him for a piece of plastic?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, but it was a very hard piece of plastic to get a hold of." She whispered, staring at the steering wheel.

"Oh, come on! You shouldn't have done that." I said, unbuckling my seat belt.

"But, we needed them… and he wasn't… bad at it," She paused, "He was actually kind of good–"

"Oh, no," I cut her off, shaking my head, "The last thing I want is a play by play about you sleeping with the sleaze bag, man-whore of the whole school."

"Clary, he really isn't a man-whore," She said defensively, "He told me before hand what he required as payment for this."

"So, you already knew about that?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"That he wanted me to sleep with him to pay for those? Yes, that's what he told me when I asked him about it." She answered after thinking it over.

"Then you're right," I said, shaking my head in disgust, "That doesn't make him the whore. That makes _you_ the whore." Anger flickered through her eyes, across her whole face.

"Do you know why I did that, Clary?" She shouted at me, gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were turning white.

"Yes," I said, rolling my eyes in agitation, "To get these." I pulled the card back out of my wallet and waved it around in the air.

"For you!" She said, her voice growing louder, if at all possible, "I knew you needed to get back out in the crowd, Clary. You needed to bounce back, so I decided to help you. This was the only way I could."

"By being a whore?" I scoffed.

"By being a friend! I was trying to help you!"

"Whatever," I sighed; there was no breaking through to this girl. She had her mind set that it was okay to sleep with a guy to get what she wanted, even if it was for a good purpose.

"Why won't you just say thank-you?" She asked quietly, her eyes tearing up.

Silence.

"Okay," I let out another breath. After all, she was only trying to help. She just didn't go about it in the right way, but she was trying. I couldn't blame her for that. No matter how irresponsible and disgusting it was, "You did screw Jonathan Morgenstern for me…" She looked at me, pleading, "Thank-you."

"Oh, it was so awful," She joked, a smile creeping on her face.

"I thought you said he was good," I laughed.

"He was. But it was _Jonathan Morgenstern_," She answered, shivering in disgust. I made a face that had to have been funny because she started laughed uncontrollably. A banging on the driver seat's window startled us. Kaelie nearly jumped out of her seat, but she rolled her window down, still giggling.

"Are you ladies going to sit here all night, or are you planning on going inside?" A huge guy in a black suit said. Kaelie shut off the car engine and we both climbed out.

"We're coming in," I said as I grabbed my fake ID, looking at the picture for the first time. It was hideous. Great.

"Are you two sure you're twenty-one?" He asked, looking us over.

"Yeah, we're sure. You can check our ID's when you're done appraising us, though." Kaelie smirked. He seemed to consider it for a moment, and then nodded his head.

"Go on through," He said, making a gesture toward the door with his hand.

"Thanks," I smiled, following Kaelie to the door.

She swung it open quickly and grabbed my wrist, pulling me inside. It was insanely dark, and I had to blink my eyes to get myself adjusted to the dim lighting enough so I could see. There was a huge, crystal disco ball shooting random beams of light on everyone's dancing bodies. Strobe lights were flashing, as well, in time with the music. People were all pressed together on the dance floor, swaying their bodies to the loud rhythm. There were catcalls, happy squeals, and drunk giggles carrying through the whole room. I was suddenly over-whelmed at the sight of it all as Kaelie dragged me through it.

Guys were raking their hands over me. They were grinding up against me. They tugged on strands of my hair. I swatted at some of them, trying to get away, but they kept coming. And, somehow, in the midst of all that, Kaelie let go of my wrist, accidentally leaving me in the middle of a group of guys.

"Hey, little lady," One of them said, rubbing up against me.

"Stop," I said quietly, stepping away from him and right into another one.

"Where do you think you're going?" A second one asked, grabbing a handful of my hair and bringing it to his nose, inhaling its smell.

"Leave me alone," I whispered, pushing away from him. Another man grabbed my upper arms tightly, holding me still.

"Well, aren't you a pretty, little thing?" He asked, his eyes looking over me approvingly. It made me sick.

"Let me go," I tried to say, but was cut off when he pressed his mouth to mine. My eyes widened as I attempted to squirm away from him. His grip on me only tightened even further.

"She's a good one, boys," He said after pulling back. He picked me up off of my feet a little and tossed me into a group of guys. I let out a small yelp as I fell to the floor, landing on my hip hard. They all surrounded me, peering down at me menacingly. Granted, they were all extremely good looking, but I was still scared senseless.

One of the boys who was closest to me threw himself on top of me. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth up, stopping me from making any audible noises. As he hovered overeGo on through me, he began to buck his hips against me, rubbing against my leg. I bit his hand hard, but it didn't help my situation at all. He just brought his free hand down across my face, hard enough for me to know that there was going to be a huge red mark. I whimpered quietly, yet remained still, not wanting to be hit again. Then I felt something warm and wet streak across my cheek. I shut my eyes tight, knowing he had just licked me. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just listened to my mom and stayed home, I wanted to take it back. I wanted to rewind everything and go back to when I was still in my apartment, but I couldn't. The only thing that puzzled me, was how no one in this club saw me being attacked.

Suddenly he flew off of me, dragging his nails across my face. I felt the sting of warm, salty blood come to the surface of my skin. Looking over, I saw a tall blond stand in front of me defensively. The one who was just on top of me stood up quickly and started yelling at the one with blond hair, who then punched the guy who attacked me in the face. Then all of the other guys started yelling and cursing, but from the way this guy was looking at them, they shut up and quickly dispersed. He waited until they had all gone before turning to me. By then, I had huddled myself up into a tiny ball on the cold, hard floor. I watched the dancing bodies carefully, praying no one with heels would step on me.

"Are you okay?" He asked stooping down to the ground. I was too dazed to respond, "Do you need help?" I gave him one sad look, and then just closed my eyes, taking in a shaky breath. I heard him sigh, then felt his warm hands scoop me up against his chest. The next thing I knew was I was in the air, moving, in some stranger's arms. But the weird thing was that I felt safer with him than I ever felt with anyone in my whole life. Plus, I just didn't care. All I wanted was to go home.

"Hey, Jace! Where were you? Isabella and I have been–" I heard another guy's voice say, "Jace…" He groaned.

"She almost got raped on the dance floor, man. I was waiting to go hunt with you two, but I couldn't just sit there and watch." The man carrying me shot back.

"People get raped all of the time, dude. It's not your job to save them. It's your job to slay demons." The other guy answered, anger in his voice.

"Alec, the men trying to rape her _were_ demons." The one holding me shouted, his grip tightened slightly. I could hear them, but I couldn't open my eyes to see them. I didn't know why, maybe I was just _that_ tired. But, I was pretty sure I heard them say demons. Really? Those weren't real. They had to be smoking crack or something.

"Demons?" The first asked, "What would a demon want with her?" It was quiet for a few moments.

"I don't know," The one carrying me said, "But I'm going to find out." He began to walk a little ways when another, higher-pitched voice started talking.

"Wayland. Where do you think you're bringing that _thing_ to?" She asked, saying the word 'thing' like it was poison, "I was almost just killed and you're busy with some damsel in distress."

"Well, you aren't dead now, obviously." He answered.

"You didn't answer my question. Where are you taking her, Jace?" She demanded. I couldn't see her, but I could describe her with one word. Bitch.

"I'm taking her to the Institute." He said, continuing to walk.

"No, you're not!" She shouted.

"Really?" He scoffed.

"You can't bring a mundane to the Institute!" She said, as I heard her shoes click on the floor beside him.

"I sure as hell can, and you aren't going to stop me, Isabella," He paused, "Besides… something tells me she isn't human."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, I am really sorry that there has been such a long wait on this, especially since it's such a short chapter, but there has been a lot going on and I have been too upset to write. If you have read my profile description, you are aware that I have a boyfriend named Jay, or I did. He broke up with me recently and it has been really difficult for me to get over this one. I haven't been able to find time to write much, but I was able to come up with this, so please understand and try not to be too upset with me :) haha.**

**so without further ado, i would like to say thank you for all of my hits and reviews, it helps a lot!**

**Kat, over and out ;)**

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><p>I was suddenly aware of a persistent banging in the back of my head. It was easily one of the worst headaches I had ever had in my entire life, bar none. I tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. The more I wished it would go away, the worse it was. Then I began to feel more pain down my hip, like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. I attempted to adjust myself, to get more comfortable, but that didn't work either. Pain shot down through my leg, and I squinched up my face, trying to keep from moving. Only, when I wrinkled my nose, I felt a burning in my cheek that made me bite my bottom lip. In conclusion, I decided to lay utterly still. The more I was moving, the more I was hurting. Then I began to hear bickering voices.<p>

JPOV

"She doesn't belong here," Isabelle shouted angrily, stomping her foot like the two year old brat she was. I chuckled at my stepsister. She really was quite the entertainer.

"Yes she does," I shrugged easily.

"She's a mundane!" She said, making a jabbing hand gesture toward the newest addition of the Shadowhunter world. Clarissa Morgenstern.

"No, Isabelle," I sighed impatiently, "You heard your mother. She's a Shadowhunter."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. She was just raised as a mundane. I know," She rolled her eyes, "But just because she is _classified_ as a Shadowhunter, it doesn't make her one of us." She said as I saw from the corner of my eye Clary shift around on the infirmary bed, moaning in pain.

"She can be trained," I said thoughtfully.

"Right, and who is going to be willing to do that?" She scoffed sarcastically. She was right; no one was going to want to train the most wanted man in the world's daughter. Except me.

"I will, I guess." I chuckled.

"Like my mom would agree to you training Valentine's daughter." She crossed her arms with superiority. Cute.

"She doesn't have to agree," I shrugged, "She's not _my_ mom."

"According to the Clave you have to obey her," She said triumphantly, a snooty look in her eyes.

"Ha!" I laughed, throwing my head back, "Since when do I listen to your mother? Or the Clave for that fact."

"You have to!" She screamed, loosing her cool once more.

"There's no need to shout, deary," I said, raising one eyebrow.

"You… You're–" She started.

"Beautiful? Intimidating? Inspiring?" I suggested.

"Annoying!" She said, raking a hand through her long black hair.

"Of course–" I answered, saying it like she was stupid, which she was most of the time, but something interrupted me.

"Ow…" I heard a weak voice say from the back of the room. Valentine's daughter was awake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! **

**I am back! awhh yeahh! this is the newest chapter, and it isnt too great, but i had to make a transition sort of chapter, as will the next be. **

**So enjoy!**

**rate please:)))**

**disclaimer-i dont own anything to do with the mortal instruments, everything is cassandra clare's**

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><p>My eyes fluttered open gently, blinding light making me blink multiple times. The first thought that came to my head was, what had happened? The only thing I could remember was Kaelie leaving me, then being confused and scared, then everything went black. That's it. And, as I looked around the room, I wished I had remembered more, because I didn't know where the hell I was.<p>

The walls were white. The bed I was huddled up in, which wasn't comfortable at all, was white. The curtains on the windows in the corner of the room were white. Everything was white. Maybe it was my ADD talking, but everything being blank and boring made me want to scream, pull my hair out, something.

"You woke her up," I heard a male voice say harshly.

"Good," I heard a female voice answer, "Maybe now she can leave."

"No, but you can," The guy smirked.

I looked up and saw the two most beautiful people I had ever seen in my life. The girl was tall. She had long, black hair that cascaded down her back like a soft river. Her eyes, which were glaring at me, were a piercing blue. It was as if she was trying to burn a whole through me with them. Honestly, she was kind of intimidating, so much that I shrunk back into the bed a little. She stomped her foot in frustration, then turned and stormed out of the door, slamming it behind her.

"Sorry about Isabelle," The man said, walking toward me. He was just as beautiful as the girl, only not as hostile as she was. He reminded me more of the sun, whereas she reminded me of ice, cold. He had blond hair and matching gold eyes. His stature was tall, daunting, like he had power, lots of it, and he knew it. And he looked _so_familiar. I just couldn't place where I had seen him before…

"It's fine," I said quietly, looking down at my lap and playing with my thumbs nervously. I heard him chuckle lightly, obviously aware of my uneasiness around him.

"So, Clarissa, let's just cut to the chase. What do you remember from last night?" He asked.

"Well, actually, I would rather be called Clary, but I–" I paused, realizing that he had said my name. I don't recall telling it to him, so how would he know that? Especially my full name, "Do I know you?" I asked, confused. He just laughed.

"Fortunately. For you, that is." He answered.

How?" My eyebrows furrowed together.

"Well, because I like to think of myself as God's gift to women. And you are, in fact, a woman," He stopped for a moment, one of his eyebrows cocked, "Unless you have something to tell me."

"I _meant_ how do you know me?" I corrected, sighing exasperated.

"I do believe you enjoy staring at my flexing back muscles while in math class." He winked. Then it clicked. This was that arrogant bastard whom I hated. _Great._

"You're kidding," I said, unbelieving, my eyes almost popping out of my head in shock. He shook his head, then turned around and began fumbling about in a large bin of water.

"On the contrary," He answered, picking up a rag and ringing it out, "I'm actually quite serious." The muscles in his back and upper arms were flexing. Damn, I really needed to focus my attention to something else. So I shot my eyes back down to my lap.

"Well, isn't this just great," I mumbled under my breath sarcastically, sitting up in the bed slowly while I was careful to keep my eyes down.

"On another note," He said, turning back around and crossing the room, over to me with a wet rag gripped in his hand, "Do you remember what happened last night? At all?" I didn't answer, just shrugging lightly.

"I have to know," He said, reaching toward my face with the rag. I still kept my mouth shut, staring off into space. I was in some sort of shock. I told myself I couldn't remember; I didn't want to, but deep inside, I knew what went down last night. The lights, the screaming, the hitting, the pushing, the cold floor, the burning pain… I bit my bottom lip, shoving the thoughts out of my head. No. I didn't want to remember those things. I couldn't.

It was silent for a good while as I stared off into nothing, his hand still slowly reaching toward me. Suddenly, I snapped out of my daze, like a rubber band breaking around someone's wrist, and slapped his hand from my face. He looked at me incredulously, amusement in his eyes, as he tried to reach toward me again. I looked back at him aggravatedly, and then slapped his hand the other way. He raised one eyebrow, and tried one more time to clean the long gash running down my cheek. Yet again, I denied him, this time shoving him backwards as hard as I could. He looked frustrated.

"I'm just trying to help," He said, throwing the rag into the large basin again.

"I can take care of myself," I muttered, running my fingers carefully over the wound that marked my cheek.

"Oh, really now? Especially considering how you handled those _monsters_ trying to rape you last night." He said harshly. But, as I looked up at him, hurt flashing across my features, I could tell he regretted saying that, "I didn't mean–"

"Yes, you did," I said quietly, cutting him off, looking back down at my lap. Tears were threatening to fall, but only with sheer will power could I hold them back.

"Do you remember that?" He asked, stepping toward me again. I squirmed away to the other side of the bed. I didn't want anyone near me. I didn't want anyone to touch me. Especially Jace fucking Wayland. My mother told me to always keep my guard up, so what – my mother! I forgot all about her. She's going to be worried sick. And Kaelie. I didn't know whether I wanted to kill her for leaving me, or kill her for talking me into going in the first place. There must have been a surprised look on my face because Jace was staring at me, confused.

"What? What is it?" He asked urgently.

"My mother. I have to go see my mother. She's going to be worried about me and–"

"What about your father?" Jace asked slowly. I hesitated, touchy subject.

"What about him?" I inquired, standing up from the bed, wobbling a little as I got to my feet. Then the door burst open, with the girl, Isabelle I think was her name, and a woman who looked to be the older version of her standing in the doorway.

"And where do you think _you__'__re_going?" The older woman asked.

"Maryss–" Jace started but was cut off.

"Probably to tell Valentine about us." Isabelle smirked.

"Who?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing.

"Look at her playing Little-Miss-Innocent-Damsel-In-Distress," She said, taking a step toward me. I involuntarily took a step back, not wanting to be beat up twice in twenty-four hours.

"I–" I started.

"She's not even that good of a liar," She interrupted, taking more steps toward me. I tried to back up again, but ran into a wall behind me.

"Stop–" I whispered quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"You'd think Valentine would have trained her better," She was looking down into my face now, and I had no where to go, no where to run. Memories from last night flashed through my head. I saw guys circling around me… Then pushing me to the ground… And being hit repeatedly…

"Leave me alone," I mumbled helplessly.

"I will leave you alone when you go and tell your daddy to never, ever–"

"Isabelle," Said a voice deep, dark and menacing. It made her flinch and me falter completely, "She said to leave her alone."

"Jace, she's a liar!" She protested, her voice sounding hurt and betrayed, "How are you taking her side over mine?" She turned away from me.

I had just enough space between her and the blank wall to squeeze out. So I did. I darted out of the corner she had backed me into, ignoring the dizzy spell that made me want to sink to my knees. Sprinting toward the door, tears were threatening to fall again. They stung the backs of my eyes, and blinded my vision. Everything was so foggy, that didn't see the arm fly up in front of me in time to avoid it. I rammed straight into it. The force of the impact threw me off my feet and onto my back, my head snapping back and slamming into the tile floor. I heard a scream fly from my lips, but it seemed distant. Everything did. I heard angry voices shouting back and forth as I numbly rocked forward onto my hands and knees. The salty taste of blood filled the back of my mouth, but I stood shakily anyway.

Instantly, there were hands on me, pushing me back down. I fought them back, shoving the hands away, but they kept coming. It was gentle at first, then became more forceful the more I refused.

"No, no," Was all I could mumble. Didn't they understand I had to leave? Didn't they know that my mother was going to be worried sick? That she probably already was. I had to get home. I had to let everyone know I was alright.

"Valentine trained her to fight back, obviously," I heard Isabelle's voice mutter. It made my blood boil. I wasn't trained by any guy named Valentine. Hell, I didn't even know who this guy was. Why couldn't they understand that? For heaven's sake, why couldn't they just leave me alone?

"Isabelle," I heard Jace say darkly, "Get out."

"I'm getting information out of her, Jace!" She shouted.

"The only thing you're doing, is scaring her." He answered, as I saw him bend down and grab my arms to keep me from trying to stand again. My body tensed all over, more fear creeping into the back of my mind. I started to shake, my teeth chattering.

"Like you're doing any better! She needs to be taught not to mess with us," She hissed.

"I was doing just fine until _you_walked in. And I don't even think Valentine sent her here. She didn't know that the guys who were trying to rape her last night were demons." Jace spat back.

"How do you know that?" She demanded, crossing her arms.

"God, Isabelle, look at her!" He shouted back, gesturing toward my shaking body. My eyes were wide when she glared at me disapprovingly, "She's terrified!"

Silence.

"Get out," He repeated. Then she left reluctantly, along with the older woman who had just watched the whole time.

I ripped my arms out of his grasp, and scurried away to the corner of the room when the door had shut and the two women of hell had left. My breathing was shallow, my eyes still wide with fear. I was scared. I was terrified. Jace just stared at me from the middle of the room in confusion. I huddled myself into a little ball, pressing my back into the wall as he stood up. He started to walk slowly over to me, pausing every few seconds to see if I would try to run away from him. He murmured soft things under his breath as he edged closer, trying to soothe me like I was a little scared squirrel in a corner. Okay, maybe I was… But that is beside the point.

"Clary?" He asked quietly. I looked up at him sadly.

"Let me go," I whispered.

"What?" He asked, looking at me uncertainly.

"Please," I answered, "Let me go home." I pleaded. He looked straight into my eyes, searching my face for a trace of any lies. Then he finally let out a deep breath.

"Okay."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I finally got another chapter up for you, it's short, and it took a while, but it is pretty important. So pay close attention. **

**Disclaimer- I dont own Mortal Instrumants or the characters in it. It belongs to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>I stumbled numbly down the pavement, bumping into random people as I went. I was rewarded with angry shouts and bad words from them, but I wasn't listening. I didn't care what they were telling me. I was focused on what was going to happen when I got home. It wasn't going to be pretty when I had to go face to face with my mother. She would chew me up and spit me out. I could handle that. But if Luke was there? There would be hell to pay. He may have been gentle to my mother, but when she wasn't looking, he was physically abusive to me.<p>

It started after my mother had started to become happier. I don't know what had happened to him, but he began to get angry all the time. At stupid things. Then he began to threaten me. Once I tried to notify the police, only, Luke had stopped me, and beat the hell out of me. I had bruises on my face, arms, and torso for weeks. I wanted to tell Jocelyn, but I couldn't bring myself to take away the only thing that had brought her out of her misery.

So, I suffered in silence. And now would be the worst timing ever. I had broken up with my boyfriend; I was almost raped; I was attacked by a crazy bitch who claimed I was some evil demon hunting girl; and I–

Since I had been so wrapped up in my own little world, I hadn't noticed a small raise of concrete. My bare foot caught the edge of it, and it pulled me down. Damn gravity. I landed with a thud in front of a tall man in a business suit. I didn't bother to look up; I already knew he was looking down at me with disgust, so why bother? He kicked me with one of his toes, barking something at me. I just sat there, unmoving.

"Get out of my way, whore!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry, sorry–" I started to say when I heard another male voice behind me.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that," He said.

"Or what?" The first man scoffed. I looked up as the man behind me let out a low growl from his chest.

Jace.

"Jeez, calm down," The first one said, backing away slowly and walking around me.

It was quiet for a few moments, except for the bustle of the city streets. I lay down on the cold street huddled into a small ball. Jace bent down next to me. Looking up into his eyes, I saw concern in his golden eyes.

"I told you not to come," I said quietly.

"Yeah, well, since when do I listen to directions?" He said, a small smile on his lips. I shrugged slightly, uncaring, "Why are you laying in the middle of the street?" He asked.

"I fell," I answered simply.

"Hey, dude, get your whore off of the sidewalk before I kick her in the street," I heard another man say.

Jace flew onto his feet faster than anything I had ever seen. He began to yell at the man who had called me a whore. They shouted back and forth at each other, using clever comebacks, quick words, and several strings of obscenities. It was nice to have someone there to stand up for me, but I didn't care much at the moment. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to speak. Luke was going to be home when I got there and I was going to have the living hell beaten out of me. Then again, if I didn't go home, he wouldn't be able to. He wouldn't be able to find me. I could hide. I could run away, and never go back.

As I thought it over, I wondered if it would actually work, if I might be able to finally get away from Luke. Then two problems presented themselves. Just when I thought I had it figured out.

First off, even if I could get away, where would I go? I had no relatives, no aunts, uncles, grandparents, nothing. That I knew of anyway. There was no way in hell that I would go find my father, maybe try to stay with him. He left me. I wasn't about to be the pathetic little girl who went looking for her father like you hear about in books and movies. It didn't work like that in real life. Simon most definitely wouldn't take me in. Not even any kind of chance there. He would slam the door in my face, like I had done to him. And I refused to go to Kaelie's house. She was the one who got me into all this shit in the first place! I was so mad at her that it would be okay with me if I never saw her again. But, with her nature, she be in hysterics if I didn't. it can still be put off, though.

Second of all, if I left, what would happen to my mother? She might dive into another depression, like what happened after dear old daddy left. Or, if worst came to worst, Luke might start to beat her instead of hurting me. I didn't want her to go through the same emotional and physical pain that I go through. If I left, she could be seriously hurt either way.

"Clary, come on," Jace said to me, bending down. Looking up, I saw the other man walking away, his hand on his nose, "Let's go."

"Go where?" I asked quietly.

"I guess I'll take you home," He shrugged. I bit my bottom lip.

"If you want?" He asked, catching my uneasiness.

"Well, I… No," I muttered.

"No what?" He seemed puzzled.

"I… I don't want to go home," I stuttered quietly.

"Why not?" He chuckled. I just looked up into his eyes sadly, not saying anything.

"Well," He sighed, "I've got to get you out of the middle of the sidewalk."

Silence.

"Okay, come one," He said quietly. I felt him slip his arms under me, lifting me from the ground. He pulled me up into his chest as I wrapped my arms around his chest and buried my face into his chest, trying to control the tears.

"Where are we going?" I asked slowly, when I was sure my voice was steady.

"My place," He answered.

"Why?" I asked with confusion, looking up at his perfect face, his hair shining in the sunlight.

"You didn't want to go to yours," He shrugged, "And, no offense, but you need a shower. Figured you could take one at my apartment." A couple of smart remarks popped up into my head, but they were suppressed by my surprise at his genuine concern for me. No matter how snarky and sarcastic it may be.

"Well, uh, thank you," I said , taken aback.

"Yeah, don't get used to it." He smirked.

And the moment was ruined… Typical.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! I've got another chapter up for you guys, and this one is longer than the recent ones, but anyway. Thank you for all of the reviews you guys have been sending. It really does inspire me to keep going. So enjoy!**

**disclaimer-I still dont own the mortal instruments or the characters, it all still belongs to Cassandra Clare.**

**Kat, over and out;)**

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><p>She mad me carry her all the way up the damn stairs to my apartment. I didn't mind, she was light, but come on now. She was an emotional wreck. Her feet weren't broken. Jeez. Still, I like how she was distant, not speaking or moving, or asking for any attention, but she couldn't get close enough to me. Several times I caught her snuggling her face closer to my chest, or tightening her grip around my neck. Every time she did, I had to suppress any of my quick, smartass remarks. Usually I'd go right ahead and come out with them, but now, I didn't. She seemed to be in a lot distress at the moment, so I just kept my mouth shut.<p>

Kicking the door of my apartment open, I grunted, my grip on her loosening as I set her down on her feet gently. I watched her as she looked around, walking slowly, and finally got the full picture of her appearance. Her cheek had a long gash; her eye make up was running down her face. Her bright red hair – and I know I gave her a hard time about the whole ginger thing, but I actually liked it. It was different, pretty. – was matted and tangled, but it had the appearance that at one point, it looked pretty good. The dress that hugged her curves just right was torn at the bottom, one of the straps ripped off as well. There were huge bruises on her arms and legs, decorating her in blue, black and purple. She was barefoot too, revealing her feet to be swollen and cut. But as she walked around the main room of my apartment, I realized I had never seen any girl more beautiful than her. And, trust me, I had seen many girls.

"It's nice," She said quietly, obviously trying to break the ice, but refusing to look at me, whether from embarrassment or nervousness, I had no idea. Probably the latter though. Who wouldn't be nervous around me?

"Yep," I answered, then pointed to the bathroom down the hall, "You stink." I saw her roll her eyes, then turn on her heel and head for the shower. Clary shut the door behind her gently.

"Well," I muttered to myself, sighing and rubbing my eyes.

It had been a rough twenty-four hours. I hadn't gotten a bit of sleep either. Between slaying demons in nightclubs, rescuing fair maidens from being raped on the dance floor, and that damned calculus homework, I was beginning to drag myself out of bed in the morning.

Figuring now would be a great time for some rest and relaxation, I wandered into my bedroom, pulling my black shirt off as I went. At least, Clary would have a lovely view when she got out of the shower. Hell, she was probably masturbating now, moaning my name. I chuckled to myself as I plopped onto my bed. Yeah, I was pretty conceited, but that's okay.

I attempted to sleep, but none would come. My eyes would close, only to snap right back open. Ugh. My body was tired, but my mind wasn't. It was reeling with so many different things. One thing stuck out, though.

Why did Clary not want to go home? I sure as hell would want to go home if I had been through all that. I mean, sure, her parents would be pissed off, but it's a typical thing to do in your teenage years. Only God knows how many times I had done it before dear old daddy kicked me out. Thinking about fathers made me wonder about Clary some more. Isabelle was absolutely sure Valentine had trained her. It would give her a good reason to not go home to him. A couple of reasons actually. One, I would be with her, and, being the kickass Shadow hunter I was, would bring Valentine to jail. Second, she had failed whatever sick, twisted version of a plan he had ordered her to carry out. But, that's only if he _had_ sent her.

Of course, she'd sworn she had never met the man in her life, much less been trained by him. I doubted she had even known demons existed before this. She was too numb from the shock of all the past few events to have known about them. And, if _that_ was the case, why the fuck did she not want to go home? Thinking about her problems so much made my head hurt. I had my own to deal with. So, sighing, I closed my eyes, sleep finally coming to me.

o^O^o

When I was eventually beginning to open my eyes, I looked over at the clock beside my bed. It was two in the morning… Damn. I had slept longer than I had planned on. Well, at least I was rested now.

My stomach growled at me angrily. I laid in bed for a couple of minutes, debating whether or not I was actually going to get up and find some food, or just be lazy and deal with it. Then, I shot up out of my bed. My hand gripped the alarm clock next to me. Seven hours? I had been asleep for seven hours? And I couldn't hear the shower anymore. That meant Clary had left. Damn it!

I stood, running a hand through my knotted, curly, blond hair, then walked into the bathroom. Maybe she had left her wallet. That would mean she'd have some form of ID in there with an address so I could find her. As I pushed the door open, I realized she didn't leave a wallet. She left her dress. And her bra. And her thongs. Jesus Christ. At first, I was angry that she left such a mess, then chuckled. Her loss. The next chick that came here could wear it.

Thinking she left, I decided on wandering to the kitchen to find food. I walked out of my bed room and into the main room. As I passed the couch on my right, I paused. Turning, I saw Clary laying there, asleep, in one of my tee-shirts and a pair of my boxers. Oh, I don't think so. There was a throw pillow that was on the floor next to my feet. I picked it up and slammed it onto her side.

"Ah!" She screamed, jumping ten feet off the couch.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Sleeping?" She answered groggily, rubbing her bright green eyes.

"Not anymore," I smirked, "Get up."

"Why?" She whined, but complied anyway.

"You aren't staying here,"

"But I have no where else to go," She mumbled.

"Uh, home?" I said, matter-of-factly. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Home?" She repeated.

"Yeah, _your_ house. Not mine."

"But, I…" She trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself.

"But you what?" I prompted impatiently.

"I can't," She whispered.

"And why not?"

"Because…" She looked down at her feet.

"Well, that's a great reason. Because." I said sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I don't want to… to go home because–" She started.

"Oh, come on. Enough with the dramatics. Why don't you want to go home?" My voice made her flinch. She looked up at me slowly, tears on the brims of her eyes. She didn't look like she was making up her fear, like Isabelle would. Clary was genuinely scared of going home.

"I'm afraid," She whispered, plopping back onto the couch. Afraid of Valentine maybe?

"What are you afraid of?" I asked, making my voice as gentle as possible.

"Luke," Clary muttered under her breath. Well, it wasn't Valentine.

"Well, looks like I'm playing doctor Phil now," I sighed, "Why?" Her expression suddenly hardened.

"If you wanted to rescue a damsel in distress, you should have found someone else because I'm not going to sit here and cry about something I can handle myself." Defiance radiated through her usually soft features.

"If I remember correctly, you were a damsel in distress." I smirked.

"I had it under control,"

"Oh, _right,_"

"I did!" She shouted, shooting back up to her feet.

"Mhmm, because at least five demons trying to rape you, a one hundred pound, five foot two ginger, is definitely something you can handle. Forgive me for stepping in to save you from being killed." I scoffed.

"It's not your job!" She said, her voice rising.

"Yes, it is my job, actually. And if you had any respect for me, and what I do, you'd leave."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You know, for a second, just a split second, I thought that you might be nice enough to let me stay at least one night. But I knew I had always hated you, and this is why. You're nothing different from all the other stuck up, too good for you dicks that I've met before."

"Ouch, if my ego wasn't so big, that would have hurt." I answered putting my hand on my heart.

"I hate you. And you know what? I will go home, but if you see my obituary in the paper, you'll know why I asked to stay." She said the last part quieter.

"Wait," I called as she headed for the door. She paused, and turned, hope in her eyes.

"I want my clothes back," I winked. She gave me a look of pure hate and disgust, then slammed the door behind her.

Tootles.

o^O^o

CPOV

I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. How could he make me leave? Granted, he didn't know my situation–and I didn't want him to–but gosh, why was he so awful? It was like the only thing he could do was be mean. And screw girls over, apparently.

That was the only thing I thought of as I made my way to hell. I didn't want to go home. But I was walking up the stairs, and there was absolutely no turning back at this point. He had heard me coming by now. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the worst and opened the door.

"Welcome home, Clarissa," A deep voice said eerily. My breath caught in my throat.

Luke.

o^O^o

JPOV

"Yeah, I guess I'll go check it out," I sighed, "Whatever, Isabelle."

Clary had just walked out of the door, and not even ten minutes of peace and quiet had passed before my cellular device began to ring. Again. Of course, I had known it was Izzy; she was always making me do shit for her, but I had know idea that she had called me to inform me that she had found Valentine's location. I stood there for a while after I hung the phone up, considering not going at all. Then, I realized that Isabelle would skin me alive if I didn't. So, I grabbed a shirt from the floor, pulled it on, and headed out to find Valentine. The call for chivalry just never ended, did it?

o^O^o

CPOV

"Stop, please!" I screamed at him, holding my stomach while cowering in a corner, "Luke, stop!"

He didn't. He slapped me across the face, the force of his blow making me fly to the ground. I landed on my hands and knees, with him towering over me. Usually he stopped by now. He had already beaten the living hell out of me, but there was a gleam in his eyes, an evil spark. He didn't just want to hurt me. No, this time he wanted to kill me.

I felt myself being lifted from the ground by my hair. A wild scream flew out of my mouth as I stood, looking up into the face of a monster that I had once lovingly called Uncle Luke.

"Scream," He whispered, so close to me I could feel his breath, hot in my face, "Scream for help," He shoved me against a wall roughly, my head and shoulders banging hard, "No one will hear you. And, even if they do, they'll be too late. I will have disposed of your worthless self by then," He paused for a second, "I wonder how I'll make up a lie for Jocelyn," He got even closer to me. My eyes were wide with fear. How could this man, this man who was the only father I had ever known, who claimed he loved me and would do anything for me, want to kill me?

"I could say you fell down the stairs," He threw me to the ground with one powerful flick of his arm. I braced myself to land on my hands, but his foot slammed into my side before I hit the floor, "A mishap of your clumsy little feet, perhaps." I gasped for breath as he pressed the toe of his foot onto my side and gave me one hard shove. It made me shoot down the hall, my head banging against the wall as I went.

"I might say that tripped and banged your head on the corner of the coffee table," He whispered menacingly. I landed in a bloody head, about three yards from where he stood. My breath was coming in short shallow pants, tears streaming down my face, "I could tell her that you fell through the window," He paused and chuckled, grabbing a crowbar from the kitchen counter and stalking toward me, "All of them would be easy to say. You are quite clumsy, my dear, dear Clarissa."

_Oh,__God,_I thought to myself as Luke got closer to me, the distance between me and my death sentence closing, _This__is__it._

His smile grew wider. I tried to scurry away from him, to get as far away as I could, but he had me trapped in the corner of the hallway. There was nowhere I could run to, nowhere safe. I needed a miracle. Raising the crow bar over his head, I whimpered softly, pushing as far into the wall as I could go.

"Valentine," Said a voice all too familiar, "Don't touch her."

Jace.

"Wayland, I knew you would be the one to find me," Luke snarled, "But I didn't know it'd be this soon."

"I would say, 'sorry to burst your bubble', but I'm not sorry," Jace growled back.

"All right, all right. Give me a few minutes to dispose of this rat and we'll get down to business, and what not." Luke said nonchalantly, turning back to me. I looked up at Jace, pleading.

"Valentine," Jace said in a low, daunting voice. I had heard him use that voice before. It wasn't often, but when he did, it was chilling, "You won't _touch__her_." Why did Jace keep calling Luke Valentine? Wait, wasn't that the name of the guy that Isabelle kept saying was… Oh, shit.

"Really?" Luke, or Valentine, whatever, paused, chuckling eerily. He bent down and pressed an icy finger to my cheek. I flinched at his touch, but kept my eyes on Jace's face with teary eyes. He looked murderous. And, if it were under any other circumstances, I'd think it was hot. However, the conditions were harsh right now.

"You know, Valentine," Jace began, "I usually don't believe in guns. It's too damn easy," He reached around his belt and pulled out a pistol as Luke stood slowly, his eyebrows furrowed together, "But I'd rather see you dead, than touch her again."

Luke's eyes became wide, as he tried to comprehend what was about to happen. I bit my lip, and shut my eyes tightly. The only thing I couldn't cover was my ears. I heard Luke let out a short yell. Then, there was a sudden explosion, and his voice was cut off. I could hear blood splatter against the walls, felt it sprinkle onto my arms and legs. There was a dull thud, and when I opened my eyes, Luke was lying on the hard wood floor, his eyes staring off into space, his body crumpled in an odd angle. Then footsteps neared me.

"Clary?" Jace said slowly, a few seconds passed before I looked up at him, speechless, "We need to go now, someone would have heard that." He bent down in front of me. I just stared into his golden eyes, still so serious.

"I can't leave without my mother," I answered slowly.

"We have to," He replied.

"But, what if, when she–" I started.

"Is she even here?" He asked.

"Well, no, but–"

"Then, Clary, we need to leave. Now." Jace said strongly, interrupting me again. Only, this time I shut up. There was an urgency in his voice, one that meant he meant business, so I followed his command. Well, that, and I was too physically exhausted to put up anymore fight.

"Come on," He said, turning to the door. I tried to get up and follow him, but fell back down to the ground, a wave of dizziness knocking me over.

"I can't stand," I muttered helplessly. I saw him shake his head, chuckling.

"I swear, the only reason you get into so much trouble is so I can carry you back to safety."

"Yeah, and I want you to rip off your shirt to bind my wounds too," I muttered under my breath.

"If you wanted me to strip, all you had to do was ask." He replied as he bent over, scooping me up in his arms. I smiled, my eyes drifting shut, finally feeling safe enough to relax.

"Maybe next time, stud,"

Then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright guys, I have chapter eight ready for ya! It took me a while to figure out how to go from there, but I think I've got it. You might hate me at the end, but it's okay:)) **

**Thanks again for all the support! It keeps me going!**

**Disclaimer: I still dont own mortal instruments or the characters in it. It still belongs to Cassandra Clare.**

**Enjoy...**

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><p>I could say that death was something of a desire for me. The thought of leaving this world seemed peaceful, easy, like a get out of jail free card. It would mean that Luke couldn't hurt me anymore. Or Simon. Or Kaelie. Or even my mother. And I could feel it close now. The darkness of it was settling deep in my bones. Its hand was reaching out for me, so near to me that I could almost feel its fingers gripping me. But, life… life still fluttered in my soul, like a caged butterfly, trying to break free. As easy as death was, life was harder. Much, much harder, complicated, and frustrating. But, it was the beauty of life that made it worthwhile, the people in it that may change your view on things. People like….<p>

"Jace," I breathed, my eyes fluttering open.

"He isn't here," Then there were those like Isabelle, who made you miserable every chance they got.

"Where is he?" I asked quietly as I looked around the room, immediately recognizing it as the infirmary I had found myself in after the mishap at the club some nights ago.

"I dunno," She shrugged with a snarky attitude, "He left as soon as he put you down, said he couldn't stay." She peered out of the window, anger burning in her eyes, but visibly trying to cam herself.

"Why?" I bit my bottom lip. He was the only one I wanted to see right now.

"Because of _you_," Her head snapped in my direction, any attempts of trying to control herself flying out of the window.

"Me?" I repeated quietly.

"Are you stupid? That's what I just said." She answered harshly.

"What did I do?" My voice was shaky.

"You lied to him," She scoffed, shaking her head.

"Lied to him?" I furrowed my eyebrows together, "About what?"

"Valentine," She said like I was stupid.

"No, I didn't know Luke was–" I started to object, when she cut me off, her long legs crossing the room to where I lay in three strides.

"You actually expect me to believe that?" She whispered harshly, bending down in my face, "You can feed that to anyone else, but I will not tolerate it."

"I'm not lying," I answered, not meeting her ice blue eyes.

"The only thing you can really do to hurt Jace, is lie to him. And you did."

"But I didn't know," I objected, beginning to get frustrated that she didn't really believe me.

"You tore him apart, and you're _still_ lying," She shook her head, as if I was a disgrace and she didn't want to even look at me.

"I didn't know Luke was Valentine!" I said more forcefully this time; she only narrowed her eyes, accepting it as a challenge.

"I told him you were trouble, that you'd only hurt him, but you had your hooks in him so deep. He really cared about you. And now he won't talk to anyone." She stood up straight, taking a step back.

"I didn't mean to!" I shouted, anger starting to well up inside of me.

"Do you feel accomplished?" She continued.

"I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't know!" My eyes began to blur with tears.

"Good job. You broke Jace Wayland," She smirked. I stood up from the bed quickly, feeling sick to my stomach from the wave of dizziness that hit me. Isabelle was immediately in front of me, trying to push me back onto the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" She demanded.

"I'm going to find him," I answered defiantly, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"No, he told me to make sure you stayed here, _out_ of trouble."

"Well, tough," I met her piercing eyes for the very first time since I met her, and gave her a persistent look, pushing past her, "I have to go find him."

"So you can hurt him more?" She shouted, following behind me.

"No!" I spun on my heel, shouting back at her.

"Think about it," She said, making her voice quieter, "If he really wanted to see you, he'd be here," A disapproving look came over her face, "That alone should tell you something."

"I can't give up on him. Not yet." I muttered quietly, all of my rage dissipating to desperation and betrayal.

"Not that you were onto something in the first place, but, if you want to be optimistic about it, then yes. That is exactly what I'm saying," She smirked, "Go home. Just go home, Clarissa."

"No," I muttered, not forcefully at all.

"No one wants you here, not even Jace. You're a charity case to him. And you're nothing but a dirty fucking _whore_, and, quite frankly, you're worthless. Probably better off dead, in all honesty." She said, no emotions in her voice.

I shrunk back against the wall, more tears surfacing on my eyes, one or two of them slipping down my cheek. Then I realized, she was right. I was nothing but trouble, even to my mother. After all, my own father tried to kill me. And, who knows, maybe I should have let him. It would have saved everyone the trouble, especially Jace. Isabelle was right… I was nothing. I wasn't even worth existing. There wasn't any point anymore. No one wanted me. I was just a burden.

"Just go home, Clary." Isabelle whispered, facing her back to me. I bit my bottom lip, then turned, flung the door open, and ran out.

It took me a few minutes to find the front door, but I eventually did, and flew out onto the street. The cool winter air bit at my face, stinging my eyes. I ignored it, running down the sidewalk that led away from my house, or what used to be my house. I didn't have any other destination in mind. I was just running to get away. There was nowhere for me to go anyway. My home wasn't safe anymore. And none of my old friends would even consider letting me stay a night or two.

I didn't belong anywhere. No one wanted me. No one loved me. I was a nobody, and I finally realized what it was like to be homeless.

Tears still stung my eyes, but I slowed to a walk, my breathing heavy. Suddenly, I realized I wasn't even on the sidewalk anymore. I was on the Jefferson Bridge. The water beneath it was grey, like the stormy sky above me. I bit my bottom lip, and walked toward the highest point of the bridge.

_Dirty fucking whore_

I picked up my pace, jogging toward it.

_You're worthless._

I began to run, tears beginning to flow more heavily down my cheeks, my voice sobbing with every breath I took.

_No one wants you here. Not even Jace._

I stopped once I reached the highest point of the bridge, and climbed onto the railing, cars speeding by behind me.

_Probably better off dead._

I looked down at the raging waters below me. I was done. I wanted out. If I was just a big problem to everyone, even Jace, then I would solve it. All I had to do was jump, and everything would be okay. I wouldn't hurt anymore, emotionally and physically. I wouldn't worry anymore. Everything would be just fine. All I had to do was jump.

o^0^o

JPOV

"Isabelle, where's Clary?" I asked as I strode into the room.

"I dunno," She shrugged nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the next.

"Didn't I tell you to keep her here?" I stepped closer to her, "So she would stay out of trouble."

"Yeah, well, um, I sorta told her, um…" She stuttered, taking a step back.

"Told her_ what?_" I narrowed my eyes.

"Er, nothing," She shrugged again, not meeting my gaze.

"Isabelle," I said strongly. Her eyes snapped up to mine at the sudden seriousness in my voice.

"Don't be mad at me," She muttered quietly.

o^0^o

CPOV

"Jump," I said under my breath. Sirens blared in the background, getting closer and closer to me. Trying to ignore them, I peered down at the muddy, sloshing river below me. My breathing was uneven. My eyes were sore from all the crying I had done, all the tears that had fallen, but I didn't care. I wouldn't feel anything at all in a few minutes.

Then, suddenly, I heard a bunch of cars pull up behind me, their brakes squealing as they pulled to a stop. My head whipped around, my hand gripping a pole next to me for balance. A man in a uniform stepped out of the police car, and began to speak into a mega phone.

"Ma'am, I need you to step down from the railing," He said, obviously trying to hide the panic in his voice. I smiled at him sadly, then turned back to the river, breathing in the salty air.

My foot stretched out in front of me, and I closed my eyes.

o^0^o

JPOV

I ran out onto the street, hooking a right on the sidewalk. People slowed me down as I fought against the flow of traffic. Panic had gripped my heart so tightly that I didn't care they were screaming insults and threats at me. All I cared about was getting to Clary. I didn't know where the hell she was, or how I was going to even get there, but I knew I had to get to her. Something told me she was in trouble.

Isabelle had crossed the line this time. And once I got home, I would kick her sorry, little ass for this. If Clary was okay, I would go easier on her, but if she wasn't… If Clary was hurt… There's no telling what I would do. I'd throw her out of the Institute. I'd make her wish she were never born. I'd kill her. I'd–

Sirens blaring in front of me caught my attention. There was a large group of police cruisers on the Jefferson Bridge. They wee circled around a section at the top, what the–? Then I saw it. Her. She was standing on the railing. Her wild, red hair blew in the wind as I police officer walked toward her slowly, speaking into a mega phone. Right then, I knew what she was about to do.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and made my legs move faster. I jumped out onto the street quickly. Cars' horns honked at me angrily, but I ignored it. I had to get to her. I had to get to Clary before she killed herself.

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><p><strong>Do you hate me yet? <strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright guys, got chapter nine for ya! **

**Tell me what you think at the end!**

**Kat:)**

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><p>Being on that railing, just standing up there, the wind tossing my bright, red hair, felt like a dream. A dream that I would never wake up from. It was kind of like finally being at peace with myself, finally in harmony with the world. Even though the sirens were blaring, with police officers begging me to step down, I was calm. After all, why should I come back down from the railing? There was nothing left for me here, nothing but sorrow. Yet, even as I stood there, I couldn't bare to think the word that I would become after I jumped. It terrified me, a blood chilling fear. But it was a hell of a lot better than being alive.<p>

So, with a last deep breath through my nose, smelling the breath of death hot in my face, I slowly stretched out my foot. Another tear slipped down my cheek, a small content smile catching it on the corner of my mouth. My grip on the pole loosened, and I felt my body go completely limp. Then I began to fall.

When, suddenly, something hard and strong slammed into my side. My breath whooshed out of my mouth quickly. Then, I fell back onto something uncomfortably. I was gasping, my hand gripping my chest, still in complete shock. Unable to get a bearing on my surroundings, I tried to sit up, but was pulled back down by something wrapping around me tighter. I squealed in surprise, then looked down to see what I was laying on, my eyes widening.

His face, and neck, and hair was drenched with sweat. His chest heaved as he stared back up at me, an actual emotion in his golden eyes: fear. He touched my face delicately with the tips of his fingers. His other hand wrapped up around the base of my neck. Then he sighed with relief, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the cement. I laid my head on his chest, which was still sucking in air raggedly. My eyes drifted shut, the blood that coursed adrenaline through my veins slowing, making me crash. I pressed myself closer to him, and felt my consciousness drifting away. The horns were honking, sirens still blared, and police still shouted, but right then, it was just he and I. Then he muttered something so quietly, that I barely caught it.

"I almost lost you… Almost."

o.^.0.^.o

JPOV

Three days. It had been three days since I pulled Clary from the railing of the Jefferson Bridge. It was one of the most terrifying, blood chilling things I had ever gone through. And for a split second, I wasn't sure if I would make it to her fast enough. I was so sure she would have been dead when I got to her… But as I stared at her, sleeping in my bed, I thanked God that I did make it to her.

Three days. She had been asleep in my bed for three whole days, a total of seventy-two hours. She hadn't been moving or making any noises other than the shallow breathing of her chest and an occasional whimper. I hadn't left her side other than to shower and eat, but even then, I got back to her as fast as I possibly could.

Now I was sitting on the corner of my bed, leaning on my hands, my elbows propped up on my knees. I was starting to get impatient. All I wanted was for Clary to just wake up. I wanted to hear say my name one more time.

I started to chuckle quietly. I had only met this girl a week ago, and I was crazy about her. Isabelle had a lot of nerve to tell Clary any different. But I guess I shouldn't expect any less from her. She has always wanted my dick–after all, who didn't?–but I refused her every time. I had even gone as far as ignoring all of the calls she had made to me over the past three days. Even the mere thought of her made me sick. It took all the will power I had to not walk to the Institute and kick her sorry ass. I wanted nothing more than to see her pay for what she had done. But I waited quietly, watching Clary's sleeping body in my bed.

o.^.0.^.o

CPOV

My eyes fluttered open gently. I was very confused for a few seconds. I didn't know where I was or how I had gotten there. The only thing I did know was that I was starving. I shifted around in the bed, and looked up in time to see a tangled mess of blond, curly hair. Jace jumped up off the end of the bed, his face full of concern and… love.

"Hey," I said quietly, looking into his eyes, his beautiful golden eyes.

"Hey," He smiled a small smile, "How are you feeling?"

"Um…" I muttered looking down.

In all honesty, I didn't know how to answer her question, because I wasn't sure how I felt. It was a jumble of emotions buzzing around in my head like a million bullets ricocheting off my skull. There was confusion, because I didn't know what was going on or where I was, though it looked vaguely familiar. I was sad, my heart so full of grief and sorrow that I couldn't bear the weight of it. Frustration played through my mind as well. It made me want to pull my hair out, and I didn't know why. But, above all, I was angry. I was livid, furious. At Isabelle for telling me those awful things, and at my father for leaving me when I was seven, for coming back, for hurting me and my mother, for trying to kill me…

"Clary?" I looked back up at Jace, "Are you okay?" I bit my bottom lip. I had to tell him. I had to tell him everything.

"No…"I muttered quietly, "I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?" His eyebrows furrowed, "Is it Isabelle?"

"No, I–" I tried to say, but was cut off.

"You're father?" He asked, interrupting me.

"Well–"

"Are you cold?"

"What? No–" I was starting to get frustrated.

"Are you hungry?" My stomach growled.

"Well, yeah, but–" I tried to answer, my patience finally flying out of the window.

"What do you want?"

"_Jace_," I shouted, sitting up.

"Yes?" He answered, taken aback by my sudden outburst.

"Will you just _listen_ to me? Please?" I begged. His eyes suddenly hardened, as he crossed his arms over his chest and backed away from me.

"That depends," He shrugged. His mood had taken a sudden change. At first, he was worried, concerned, but now, he had become frustrated, almost angry.

"On what?" I asked, puzzled, my brows furrowing.

"My God, Clary," He said quietly, narrowing his eyes in disgust.

"What?" Now I was even more confused.

"It all depends on you!" He threw his hands up in the air, "I've tried to help you. Since the moment we met in the club, I've tried. But you kept pushing me away, insisting you didn't need my help."

"That's not what I–" I started.

"Isn't it?" He cut me off, "You didn't want me to listen, so I didn't. I got the damn hint. So, I left you in the infirmary with Isabelle. Obviously you weren't going to talk to me, so why bother try? That was my line of thinking. Tell me, dear Clarissa, what was yours?"

"I just…" I trailed off, not really knowing what to say to his rage.

"Just what?" He scoffed, "Were you _that _desperate for attention?"

"No!" I objected quickly.

"Then what was it?" He challenged.

"He left me when I was seven!" I screamed at him, "When I was seven…" He paused.

"Huh?" He looked confused.

"My dad, Valentine, Luke, whatever," I answered, burying my face in my hands.

"That's still no legitimate reason to–"

"Will you stop? You want to know what's so fucking wrong with me? Here it is," I took a deep breath, "I have almost no memory of him, my father. Sure, he lived with us, but I never saw him. He always slept during the day, and then stayed up at night. My mother…" I bit my lip as I said her name, pausing momentarily as I took a deep breath, and continued, "She never spoke of him much. Whenever I asked, she just said he was too busy to come outside and play with me, or she would make up some crazy excuse as to why he wanted nothing to do with us. He… He never even bothered to come to my birthday parties or any of my Christmases. It was just me and my mom."

Tears stood on the brims of my eyes, but I fought them back, only speaking when I knew my voice would be steady, "Then, one morning, I woke up and the whole place was trashed. Pictures were thrown from the walls; the kitchen table was flipped over; glass was everywhere. My mom was passed out on the floor, covered in glass and blood. And I was terrified. I was so scared I didn't know what to do, so I hid in the corner, behind the TV that was turned on its side. Then I watched my father walk away from us. He thought she was dead. I could tell he did; I thought she was…

"He had been gone for years. I guess I should have been used to it; he never was in my life, but it was like a piece of me was missing, you know?" My breathing was beginning to get labored and shallow, like right before you cry really hard, "My mom stayed in depression. She rarely left her room. I would try to talk to her, to get her to open up, but she'd only shut me out. Eventually, I just stopped trying, which lead me to build up my own walls.

"Then, Luke came into the picture," I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding, tears slipping down my cheeks slowly, "And slowly, slowly but surely, she became better. And she was finally starting to get back into the world, finally starting to let me back into her walls.

"What she didn't know was that Luke was abusive. At first it was just verbally. He would call me names, and tell me awful things…" I shuddered at the thought of him yelling at me in that terrifying way of his, "Then one day he hit me. Across the face. I was in shock. I could only stare at him in disbelief, but no matter how hard I tried to justify it in my mind, he was beginning to abuse me physically. I thought about telling my mom, but how could I? How could I destroy the one good thing in her life? I tried to notify the police, but Luke caught me. He beat the living hell out of me. It was so bad that my friend…" I paused before I said her name, another tear rolling down my cheek, "Kaelie, had to come get me and take me to her house for the rest of the week until I was better. That's when I met Simon and we began to date.

"Things were looking up for my mom, then I got careless. I went to Pandemonium with Kaelie because Simon and me broke up, even though my mom told me to stay at home… And I wish I did. I wish with every fiber in my body that I had stayed home that night. I didn't know all of this would happen.

"The only time I went home in the past week was to get out of your hair, and I knew what was coming for me when I got home. He, Luke, beat the hell out of me, which you saw when you got there. And I think he wanted to kill me. I actually do. Then, you called him Valentine, and it was like my whole world came crashing down. My heart was shattered.

"My own father didn't want me, other than wanting me dead," Tears were pouring freely down my cheeks; I didn't even try to stop them this time. There was no point, "And it's like, crazy to think that the one person who you looked up to, and admired, turned into a person who hates you so much that they want to kill you. And then you brought me to Isabelle, and she told me things that I had known were true all along. And she was right. I had just thought, that maybe I could be something. Maybe I could just get through this and become something great one day, ya know? But if I was just a problem to everyone, then why bother try? So, I decided to fix the problem.

"But then… You got to me, and I felt…" I paused, sucking in a deep breath, trying to think of the right word, "Safe, like I was actually wanted, ya know?" Tears had soaked my entire face by now. Jace hadn't moved; he just stared at me, his face blank and emotionless. Sobs rose up in my chest, "And I miss him… And I _hate_ him," I had finally broken my walls, "But I miss him…"

I sniffled as the bead began to shift, like weight had been put on the edge of it. Another tear rolled down my cheek, then a hand reached toward my face, lightly touching my chin, making me look up. I stared into Jace's eyes, letting him gently wipe away the tears with his rough thumb.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" He asked softly, sitting down next to me.

"I was afraid," I answered quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Of what?" His eyebrows furrowed, his expression puzzled.

"Of trusting someone else who could hurt me," I muttered. He brought his face closer to mine and whispered.

"I will never hurt you."

Then he pressed his lips to mine gently, wrapping his arms around me. I pushed myself closer to him, wanting to deepen the kiss. He got the hint, and opened his mouth, which parted my lips as well. His tongue slipped in slowly, making me melt into him. As I let him continue to play his tongue through my mouth a couple of times, I realized how experienced he was. Obviously, with his looks, he wouldn't be a virgin. I felt myself smiling a little. Then I noticed that_ I_ was kissing him. This beautiful man had _his_ tongue in _my_ mouth. _Me_, a normal, somewhat unattractive girl. Maybe it was pity but I shoved every thought out of my head and just let him kiss me further.

"Well, isn't this just adorable," Said a voice from the shadows. Jace was up in a flash, gripping my hand and taking me with him. He pulled me behind his back before I had a chance to squeal.

"Who's there?" He called strongly, his voice a scary calm. Then another voice matched Jace's aggressiveness.

I peaked out from under Jace's arm just as he stepped into the doorway. My eyes widened; my hand flew to Jace's shoulder, gripping it so hard my nails dug into the skin.

"You know," Began Valentine, "I don't approve of you dating my daughter."

* * *

><p><strong>Jace- "Cock blocker"<strong>

**Me- *rolls eyes***


End file.
